#Riverwoman

[spinnychaircirclecasting]

actually bestie i keep crossing time zones so thursday can't catch me

[naggascradle]

adwd north content is like one event after another like barbrey in the damn tomb with theon going yep i fucked the guy who held you hostage's older brother. and i was real mad about when he died and i couldnt even marry the guy who held you hostage. because that riverwoman who despised you had to get there first. because of the maesters. while the wildling king is playing a fiddle and causing a murder mystery and lord manderly is plotting and making the wildling king sing songs telling what he did or perhaps faking what he did literally hysterical. theon hears his damn name once by the weirwoods and he's like Thw Gods Have A Plan For Me. jon snow is like 17 and leading the nights watch. he has a hot as fuck former prostitute as his steward and everyone is SO mad about it. and also ignoring every sign from like 4 different gods and religions all at once. anyway sure the braavosi banker manages to save just theon and jeyne. thats awesome. they burned three people who had to resort to cannibalism like 40 minutes ago to get asha's fuckass brother and jeyne love you jeyne. and then jon snow dies. bloodraven is there as a cameo for tthe audience also doesnt everyone love bloodraven. Bloodraven my friend bloodraven. he's there to tripsit bran.

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━ Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Chapther one : the riverwoman

Year 126 A.C.

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Sometimes, Lucrezcia thought to herself how easy it would be to escape. The Arbor was an island wonderfully connected to practically the entire world known to man. Volantis seemed like a good destination, all she needed was a ship, of which she had thousands at her disposal.

But there were several factors that deprived her of such a plan. First, her father was as tenacious as she was, and would find her and drag her back so that he could marry her off to whomever he offered.

The second, and at that moment more important, Lucreczia was sitting in a carriage, on her way to her first audience with her possible future husband. Her father, sitting opposite her, seemed to be trying to ignore her by any means possible. Lucrezcia, for her part, tried to annoy him, making noises with her rings.

"Could you, my child, stop being a nuisance for a few moments?"

The girls stopped her movements, to offer a sarcastic smile to her father.

"Oh, excuse me dearest father, it must be pre-marital nerves".

"Are you always so unbearable?"

I have someone to look like

But she preferred to swallow her words. Lunch with Lord Tarly's niece had been most victorious for her lord father. Julianna Tarly was a slender and tremendously young girl, no older than Lucrezcia herself. The young Redwyne found her stepmother-to-be irritating and exceedingly sordid. A childish girl who could compete in immaturity with her nearly five-year-old sister.

The irony of the gods, he was getting rid of a daughter to return to a wife who might be confused by one of his offspring.

Luckily for her, she would not have to put up with the new Lady of the Arbor, as she would be married by then in any corner of the fucking continent.

Honeyholt was the home of the Beesbury house, sworn to the Hightowers. With their lord at King's Landing as part of King Viserys Targaryen's council, it was Lady Beesbury, who had kindly offered to host the court. Not out of charity, of course, but out of business with one of the richest houses in all of Westeros. Lucrezcia was just a pawn, just like in her father's chessboard.

The Reach was undoubtedly a beautiful place, filled with flowers of all kinds and palaces that looked like something out of a book about knights in shining armour. Lady Beesbury greeted them at the entrance, an elderly, petite woman with an unbridled taste for pie and tartlets. Lucrezcia tried to smile and look delighted at the auction of her person to a bunch of usurious lords, as the old woman led her into the garden where the tea was to be held.

They say that you are not aware of your destiny until it is staring you in the face.

That's how Lucrezcia felt when she set foot in the garden, becoming the centre of everyone's attention. It seemed that they had deliberately arrived early, to make her entrance more conspicuous. Pairs of eyes scrutinised her as if she were one of the cakes on the table.

So far, the trip had served to psych her up, but the possibility that her future husband might be among these men made her want to vomit horribly.

"Cheer up, dear, they're watching you," her father's voice echoed behind her.

Fuck off

A strange tingling settled in her spine. She approached the small table with the cakes, while her father stood talking to some men in pompous clothes.

Lucrezcia contemplated that apart from herself, the only other woman at the soiree was the elderly Lady Beesbury (except for the maids who went to and fro). The rest were men. Tall, thin, short, fat, ornately dressed, full of jewels. With the balance on the side of men of her father's generation rather than her own.

She wondered if her mother suffered such a thing, being from the Iron Islands, they probably put her on a ship straight to the Arbor in a wedding dress and called it a day.

She didn't know if it was worse than what she was going through at that moment.

"My lady"

Lucrezcia gobbled down the raspberry pastry in her hand before turning to the person who spoke to her.

A short, chubby man with a terrible grey moustache and little hair in the centre of his head, he took the hand that previously held a pastry and planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

"My name is Lord Daryl Florent"

She watched him wordlessly, chewing the pastry exaggeratedly. Lord Florent began to talk about his life, still holding her hand. When the man stopped talking, seeing that the girl did not answer, he said to her.

"You would be prettier if you smiled."

A spark lit up the girl's eyes. She tugged at the corners of her mouth, preparing a flamboyant smile. A smile that showed all her teeth covered in the raspberry filling of the pastry.

Lord Florent made no secret of his displeasure as he let go of the young woman's hand and walked indignantly towards another group of men watching the interaction.

Preach the word, fatty.

The afternoon was summed up in a series of frustrated attempts by different men to approach her in an attempt to woo her. When the man was old to begin with, her tactic was to be disgusting, play with food and make comments that implied she was a woman with ideas.

When they tried to elicit information about her interests, Lucrezcia didn't bother to lie. She liked to hunt, enjoyed wine and ale (no surprise, being the daughter of the leading exporter of ale in all of Westeros), could barely do needlework, and was very interested in the political situation in the realm.

Most did not endure up to that point in the conversation, but the few who did, asked the golden question.

"And you are an avid reader from what your father says. What is the last book you read, my lady?"

"A caution for young girls, my lord"

That used to be the final strike.

Who wants a wife who reads about sex with the intention of self-pleasure rather than to give heirs?

With the many horrified looks from the gentlemen, Luther could only resist the urge to slap his daughter in the middle of the garden.

Night fell upon them, and Lady Beesbury invited them into Honeyholt's great hall. Lucrezcia watched as less than half of the large crowd of men who had been there at the beginning of the evening remained. It was clear that the great hall table was almost empty, apart from Lady Beesbury, her father, herself and some nine suitors.

The food was extremely sweet for her taste. The girl chewed in silence as her lord father spoke to the few remaining men.

Unfortunately for her, most of them were old men who had not succumbed to her tactics. She was very bored. The dress of salmon-coloured fabric was particularly itchy, the belt of thick golden thread cut off her circulation. The hairstyle that Nyssa had done for her this morning was pulling at her brain cells.

The kingdom was in the springtime, according to the maesters. The Reach's crops were thriving, but Lucrezcia wished at the moment that everything would freeze over. At the very least, for a breeze to blow. She felt like she was in the middle of Dorne's Red Desert.

In those moments of desperation, she considered faking a fainting spell. She could pour some wine over herself, lie on the floor and hope that her father would get fed up with this fanfare and decide to return to his island.

Oh, her island. Lucrezcia had always dreamed of leaving it, but now she missed it more than anything. The walks through the vineyards, going to the Ryamsport harbour market to watch the seafarers' festivals, skinny-dipping on the beach with Nyssa at an hour her father hadn't allowed.

Even her palace on the cliffs of the Arbor, right by Starfish Harbor. The library's stained glass windows, its chambers overlooking the sea, the passageways to the kitchens and stables where she could go out with her pack of hounds.

How she missed her puppies.

She hoped to transport them to wherever she was getting married.

The last litter had been of 8 puppies, 5 of which survived. Now with the perfect age and training for a good hunt. They were fast and strong, they could tear a fox apart in a few seconds.

Surely their dogs were more loyal than all these men sitting at the table. She wondered if she could use them as bait for her little puppies. As a form of training.

Nah, they'd be too easy prey.

In her reverie, Lucrezcia ignored the doors to the great hall and it was not until Lady Beesbury rose from her seat at the end of the table to greet the new visitors.

"My Lady Blackwood, what a surprise, I was not expecting you yet."

That made the Redwyne girl look up from her plate of gooseberry duck. The sight stunned her.

A tall, slender but athletic woman with a cascade of obsidian-black hair curling like tornadoes. Behind her, six men, all somewhat rough-looking, dressed in the same clothes as her. Riding clothes, black and crimson.

The men looked hungry, staring at the bloody roast duck as if they hadn't eaten in days. They reminded her of her dogs, waiting attentively at the woman's command.

"I hope I have not interrupted with our entry" said the woman "We have a long drive to Oldtown and Lord Beesbury had offered us accommodation for the night".

Lady Beesbury did not look very pleased, but she could do nothing against her husband's orders.

"Well... I guess you may sit down, please, please, you must be starving" said the old lady.

Lucrezcia sent an amused glance at her father, who looked tense but intrigued as Lady Blackwood's men swept through the feast.

"And tell me, Lady Blackwood. What is your business so far from the Riverlands?" asked her father, sipping from his wine glass.

"Our maester fell ill a couple of moons ago. We were travelling to the Citadel to request reinforcements at Raventree Hall. My Lord Brother sent me on his behalf".

"I understand" said her father.

As the rivermen gulped, Alyssane looked at her father.

"And what are you doing, Lord...?"

"Lord Redwyne" interrupted Lady Beesbury "Lord Redwyne of the Arbor and his daughter, Lady Lucrezcia, are here as my guests, as are all these distinguished gentlemen".

Black Aly surveyed the table, the distinguished gentlemen looking rather uncomfortable at the presence of her men. She then looked at the girl in the salmon-coloured dress. Lucrezcia felt a little self-conscious, but smiled at the new guest. She smiled back.

The woman from the Riverlands could not be more than ten years older than her. And she was not stupid. The picture was so obvious that asking the question was totally unnecessary.

The dinner went as smoothly as possible. With the suitors gradually withdrawing as Lucrezcia's father and Lady Alyssane had an arduous conversation about the politics and succession of the realm, with the recent birth of Prince Joffrey.

Lucrezcia learned there that the Blackwoods were a Riverlands family of considerable prestige, the only one in their lands to practice the religion of the Old Gods. Lord Luther had long sought to expand into the interior of the continent, exporting mostly to coastal cities.

Any occasion is good for business, Lucrezcia supposed.

Her maid, Nyssa, was quick to come and fetch her as the hour of the wolf approached. As did Lady Beesbury.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lucrezcia," Alyssane said goodbye. "I had hoped that tomorrow we might be able to breakfast together in the gardens, if Lady Beesbury sees fit for your... matchmaking".

The old woman didn't seem to agree, but after the disaster with her first twenty suitors, she figured that giving the girl the morning off would be a good idea.

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Alyssane," said the girl before following Lady Beesbury and Nyssa to her chambers.

Once the girl was out, only Lord Luther, Black Aly and an empty jug of wine were left in the hall.

"She is a beautiful girl, you are very lucky, Lord Redwyne," congratulated the woman.

Luther wanted to laugh in her face. Yes, his third daughter was beautiful, a light brown-haired beauty with huge green eyes, a fine face and a pretty composition.

"She'd make an ideal wife, if she wasn't a problem with legs." The man began as Lady Alyssane listened " The girl is the smartest of my four daughters, and the most ambitious. Nine septas she has cost me in less than four years, they say she is incorrigible" the man massaged his temple "I had hoped a husband would soothe her spirit" he lamented.

In his deepest dreams, Luther regretted that Lucrezcia was not a man. She would have been the perfect heir, but sadly the laws and her own opinions deprived her of that status.

Luther had to marry off his daughter. That was the custom and the law.

Black Aly listened with attention, scheming in her own mind.

Lucrezcia reminded her of herself, a young woman who just wanted her place in the world. Though Aly had been luckier in the family, from what she was hearing. While her father described his third with a mixture of resentment and pride, as she noticed, the girl did not remind him only of her.

A highly intelligent, cool-headed young noble who enjoyed risk but knew how to keep her composure. She couldn't help but compare her to her own nephew.

Benjicot Blackwood had just turned six and ten, a year younger than Lucrezcia. The boy was proper and somewhat shy among his own kind, but lately quarrels with the Brackens had him in a mess, hanging out with his grooms at the tavern, brawling and neglecting his lessons.

He needed to wise up.

He needed a new goal.

He needed a wife. Her brother, and father of the boy, Lord Samwell Blackwood, had tried to bring up the subject several times, perhaps this was the right occasion.

"I believe, my lord, that I can offer clarity on our problems," the woman commented. "My own nephew, Benjicot Blackwood, future Lord Blackwood and heir to Raventree Hall, may stand as a suitor for your daughter," she explained.

Luther seemed to sober up suddenly. It was a good way to make contacts with the Riverlands, as well as sending his daughter far away.

"How much do you want for her?"

He knew it wasn't smart to send it to the first person who would offer. But she had been on the marriage market for years and nothing. It was a golden opportunity, both for him and for Blackwood.

"I shall write to my brother first thing tomorrow morning. He will discuss with you the details of the dowry, the wedding and so on".

"As tempting as it sounds, I know my daughter, she is capable of galloping away if I promise her to a complete stranger who has never seen her life".

"And for that, my lord" Black Aly leaned her elbows on the table to approach the lord in front of her and say "She'll think it's her idea".

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tag list: @erysione @asteria33 @shifter-101 @drwho-ess

[rocksandaces]

"Tra la la. I'm the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman? It doesn't really matter" is such a nonbinary goblin quote I love Undertale

[marcosvargas97]

Tra la la. I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman...? (Riverman from UNDERTALE fanart)

[jellykinss]

oh boy new jelly self-insert dropped. this time shes from horizon :) meet the girlie! (transcript and more info below)

Jaakkima (yaak-kee-mah) - 21 yrs. // “Find the riverwoman with seafoam eyes and sharpened fangs. She will guide you to any answer you seek.”

Jaakkima is a lone ferrywoman located in the Burning Shores. Previously Lowland Tenakth, now tribe-less. She cares for an underground garden left by the Old Ones, where she found her Focus, and now continues to grow fruit of all kinds in their honor.

She actually does have sharpened canines. Not for any specific reason— she just thought it would look cool.

She wears a black cropped shirt with long sleeves and faux fur under a woven cloth, her bottoms being the same with long black bellbottom-style pants with the same faux fur textures, above which is a woven cloth skirt with a colorful belt. She wears a coral pink satin scarf around her neck, along with handmade pearl string jewelry above the scarf and around her torso. She usually also wears a sheer cloak. Her right arm is clad in armor, its sides painted with a river pattern. Her dark skin is dotted with freckles on her torso and across her face, alongside makeup with the same river design. The right half of her dark afro is put into dyed braids, fading into a light blue color.

(p.s.: she totally doesn’t have the hots for a certain red-haired huntress. shes so sane and normal)

[pinka-pink]

A real riverwoman.. or.. a riverman? That's doesn't matter 😜 haha.

[canvas-madness-txc]

It Was Just a Dream

OH DEAR.

I HAD NOT ANTICIPATED FOR THIS.

EVEN STILL, THIS MAKES FOR A RATHER INTERESTING OPPORTUNITY.

Papyrus raised his head. His bones felt heavier. Blinking slowly, he brushed himself off and looked around.

But nobody was there.

Had it been a dream? From the bottom of his SOUL he wished it to be a dream. Something crumpled rubbed against his hand. Papryus smoothed it all.

Presumed missing.

This wasn't a dream.

Papyrus let his head fall to his hands.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!?" He was met with silence, filled only by the low humming of the CORE.

"I BELIEVE I COULD ANSWER THAT," an unknown voice whispered. Papyrus jumped to his feet. Looking around, he could only find a barren underground. Something in the distance caught his eye.

A small scrap of paper lay on the ground not too far away. Papyrus picked it up. Unfolding it, Papyrus was met with the image of a hand.

It was a skeletal hand. There was a hole where the palm should be. Papyrus felt it enticing him to some unknown fate. He wondered where to go. His body immediately moved farther away from Hotland.

Finding himself in Waterfall, Papryus felt himself more at ease. The Riverperson's boat came slowly into view.

"Tra la la. I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman...? It doesn't really matter. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?"

Papryus was taken aback that he was noticed so quickly. Still, he found himself climbing into the boat. His body and mind were not his own as he thought about the strange image he had found.

"HOW CAN YOU SEE ME?"

"Tra la la. Tre lei lei."

"DID YOU HEAR ME? I'M ASKING YOU A QUESTION," Papryus huffed. The Riverperson gave no response. The only sound was the movement of the paddle in the water and the soft patter of rain.

"You have other things to worry about than that paper." Papyrus opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Beware the man who speaks in hands." Finding his voice, Papyrus became intrigued.

"WHY?"

"It's really just a mystery. Tra la la. Beware the man from the other world," the Riverperson hummed. Papyrus was overwhelmed by curiosity. He wasn't given a response but it held no meaning. Riverperson often babbled nonsense. Today, though, Papyrus knew something was off.

He thumbed the missing poster. Immediately, guilt overtook him. He had no idea what happened to Sans in the time he was gone. His SOUL sank. The riddles swarmed his brain. Nothing else mattered as he was lost to the world. If he could make sense of it all to reach his brother and tell him everything was going to be alright, he had gained everything in this world or in any other world.

Through magic, or pure luck, the Riverperson seemed to sense the unease of his passenger.

"Tra la la. The waters are wild today. That's good luck." Papyrus looked up. There was a flicker of hope in him, but it vanished as fast as it appeared. It was just a sediment about the boat being easier to maneuver. Even still, the rest of this felt like a dream, so Papyrus anticipated for anything to happen.

Getting off the boat, Papyrus made his way throughout Waterfall. He passed by his brother's other sentry station. Papyrus lingered about the station in silent guilt. Snapping out of it, he noticed a door. Papyrus fixated his gaze on it. That door had never been there before.

Walking over to it, Papyrus impulsively knocked.

"ANYBODY THERE?" He gave a small laugh despite himself.

Then he was plunged into darkness.

[ask-the-determined-river]

"Tra la la. I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman...? It doesn't really matter. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?"

[postmakerkiwi]

South Hotland Shore

Tra la la.

I am the riverman.

Or am I the riverwoman…?

It doesn't really matter.

I love to ride in my boat.

Would you care to join me?

(Ride in the boat?)

ㅤㅤㅤ                Yes        ❤️No

photo by ProfessorProf

[brycenote]

the riverwoman

a bandit

[viperixsworld]

VIPER ASOIAF UNIVERSE

MASTERLIST...

Tales of a Baratheon in a Lions den

Margellyn Baratheon ➜ Jaime Lannister

Born to die

Lucrezcia Redwyne ➜ Benjicot Blackwood

➜ prologue

➜Chapther one : the riverwoman

➜Chapther two: proposal

➜Chapther three: friends

Drafts

Magda of Hearth ➜ Jon Snow

Cerella Lannister ➜ Aegon Targaryen ii

[ronanbrackens]

ᕯ

"I don't want no Riverwoman, truthfully." Ronan spoke, half amused as he looked up at his Queen - because all in the Riverlands knew him as Ronan Bracken. Knew of the feud between the Blackwoods, knew how easily she or her children could end up at the hands of that blood feud. Or become a widow. "I see no point in using marriage to foster connection between House Brakcen and a river house - I believe myself able to do that, without putting my cloak on some Frey or a Mallister."

Truthfully, he had little inclination as to how the matter of his own marriage had come to be a continuous topic of conversation between himself and the Princess turned Queen; an association where shared similarity during her time as ambassador of the Riverlands, paired with multiple games of chess, turned into a warm familiarity of respectability. "I'd prefer my sister, the Lady Brianna, marry within these lands because…I'm her brother."

That was his answer, as simple as that. "Seeing as I know many a man beyond these lands, and spent years in camps with them up and down the continent, we ought to use that for me to marry their sisters or daughters."

"Hm." He thought to himself slightly, moving aside the piles of historic manuscript from his desk; ancient Riverland law regarding succession, and how he looked over it carefully. Looking for some loop that the Prince could use - there were many. Ample. Their closeness had paid off when the tables turned and suddenly the crown seemed to lay upon her brow; the one whom many had underestimated, dismissed and looked over - many, though not Ronan Bracken, had now taken an oath to be his ruling sovereign until her dying breath.

"You are not wrong." Ronan spoke, his hands clasping together the way they always did when he was thinking. As much as they were beginning to rebuild, there was still much for them to do; much to rebuild, many fields that remained the hues of ash. For a land of farmers, patches of infertile land was a death sentence. All it would take was one poor harvest, and there again would be a reckoning.

"Nor should you, or any of us, need beg their acceptance of your place in the line of Tully succession. They need only understand should the day come where they require something of us, they will not find it." He had always knew it were something he needed to do - and now, it was suddenly more pressing and apparent than ever before. There was an earnestly grim expression on his face of agreement in her words - for that was the truth of the matter, they had made their disrespectful dismissal clear in their choices of behaviour.

A pattern, as though the dragons dancing over their heads for the better part of a decade over the succession of a woman had not taught them all a lesson.

"They are not the only ones with filled coffers, but the options are admittedly slim, your Grace. The Lyseni, whilst experiencing their Spring, remained too emotive a choice as of this moment. The Reach remain an option, especially considering their association with Dorne has eased - meaning they need more to bank with them. Gael Hightower is trying to prove himself, he may be worth the shot. Or there's everyone's old friend, the Iron Bank. All I know is there's fields that need reworking, soon."

"Because once we get people movin' into larger settlements, they'll need feedin." He then passed over a map to her, two locations circled. Seagard, and Saltpans. "Pick one, yer Grace."

There was care behind Iona's suggestions for a bride to wed the Lord of Stone Hedge. He was a Bracken, a ruling lord of his house, and her Hand. He remained a key piece on the board, and his marriage ought to be a strategic one for his house and for the Riverlands as a whole. That was the only reason she remained understanding of his rejections of her past recommendations. That she knew Ronan understood his value as well. That his strategic mind saw they could do better, somehow.

“The lions dismiss us, my lord. They dismiss me,” Iona replied calmly, folding her hands before her. “Perhaps Tyland Lannister expects me to beg to get his recognition and that is precisely why I will not do it. He does not have the last word to legitimize my rule, the Riverlords did”. The Queen of the Riverlands would not make an enemy of the Lion King, but she would not bow down to him either. She was perfectly content to keep a state of neutrality between the Riverlands and the West. “The Lannisters are not the only ones who have coin in this realm,” she added, for there were other potential allies to turn to. Those who produced the wares and the supplies that generated the coin, that gave flow to trading routes and marketplaces.

So no, her sights were not on having Ronan Bracken wed a woman of the West. “Rivermen quarrell far too often. I thought it wise to strengthen ourselves from within,” she went on, which was why her last considered prospect had been a Riverlander woman. “You are my Hand, Ronan. What do you think about it? Should I expand my horizons instead?”. Give names of women from other realms for her Hand to consider.

Iona Tully nodded along with the words of her closest advisor. Casimir needed to make his stance known, she knew. He had to make it known he stood with her and that he had no intention whatsoever to claim the throne. She would have that conversation with her brother later.

The West and the Reach were fickle allies, Iona thought. She had seen them break arrangements and go back on their word the same amount of times she'd witnessed Rivermen fight amongst themselves. It was difficult to know who to trust, who to rely on, who to turn to for loyal alliances. “Speak with them, my friend. The Blackbars. The Florents,” she said with a nod. “We may get a better glimpse of where their king stands, and where his interests lie”. If Cedric Tyrell could be swayed to wed someone close from his court to a prince or a princess of the Riverlands.

[jimmsytree]

I was excited to draw Riverperson since the beginning - feels amazing to finally do it!

Also respect if you can recognize the Undertale counterpart of every monster on page 209.

IRONTALE Pages 209 - 212

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[ainurmoodboards]

Happy International Women's Day!

The Female Ainur:

First picture, (left to right)

top row: Arien, Estë, Estë's Maidens

middle row: Goldberry, Ilmarë, Meássë

bottom row: Melian, Nessa, Nieliqui

Second picture,

top row: Nienna, Riverwoman, Thuringwethil

Middle row: Uinen, Ungoliant, Vairë

bottom row: Vána, Varda, Yavanna

[minecraftfan11onscratch]

Mysterioustale - The River Lazuli

Or is she the River Pyrite? ...Not even she is sure.